


All the Warmth of the Sun

by pythaglorious



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cheeky Yuuri, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Bar, Karaoke, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, that's never explicitly stated but... they're definitely in a gay bar, viktor is a sweetheart but what else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythaglorious/pseuds/pythaglorious
Summary: Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could call it a date, but Phichit had set them up, and they were alone. In a bar. And, if Yuuri should consider this a date, there was worse company to be had than Viktor Nikiforov, with his shining silver hair and a baby blue stare that somehow held all the warmth of the sun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [allie](http://skyminyard.tumblr.com) for always listening to my ridiculous au ideas (and helping me come up with them).
> 
> thank you to both allie and [ren](http://starbxrn.tumblr.com) for helping me polish this fic.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Yuuri was never one for staying out late. Quite frankly, Yuuri was never one for going out much at all. School and practice ate away at most of his time. In order to stay in Detroit with his scholarship, he had to keep his grades up. In order to have any shot at becoming a competitive figure skater, he had to work his ass off— which wasn’t much of a problem for him. Anyone could tell he was obsessed with skating. He was too aware of himself, good and bad, every shortcoming and every talent, to have not become obsessive. His self consciousness was a double edged sword— it bolstered his work ethic but often hindered his performance.

However, tonight, Yuuri traded the warmth of his dorm for the biting November air and heat of a crowd, urged to go out by a certain roommate of his. Phichit was as enthusiastic as he was persuasive. Tonight, he had convinced Yuuri out of his shell and into a Karaoke bar, with none other than Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor had been among Russia’s top figure skaters since he was in the Junior Division. However, the Russian skater decided to take a few years off of his competitive career to pursue a degree at Marygrove College and train with the Detroit Skating Club. Viktor and Phichit were friends, which is why he was here tonight with Yuuri, though that wasn’t saying much. Phichit was as outgoing as they come, and, from what Yuuri could tell, Viktor didn’t seem to have many reservations when it came to charming strangers. Present company included.

Yuuri hadn’t yet spent much time around Viktor. They had several mutual friends, as they both took part in the international program at Marygrove College, so he had seen him around school a few times, as well as on the ice rink. But, they had certainly never spent time together like this.

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could call it a date, but Phichit had set them up, and they were alone. In a bar. And, if Yuuri should consider this a date, there was worse company to be had than Viktor Nikiforov, with his shining silver hair and a baby blue stare that somehow held all the warmth of the sun. They sat at on a couple stools at a hightop table, sequestered from the rest of the bar. They had been there for a while now, and Yuuri was beginning to feel the buzz of alcohol in his system. By the way he wore a loose smile, it seemed that Viktor was too. Yuuri tried to tune out the (quite frankly) atrocious singer currently on the platform stage across the room, performing a screeching rendition of the aged classic, Lady Gaga’s “Born this way,” so that he could focus on what Viktor was saying.

The Russian man evidentially noticed this distraction as well, because a curious glint appeared in his eyes and he leaned across the table into Yuuri’s space. Yuuri could smell the vodka on the other man’s breath as he smiled, “Yuuri, I bet you five dollars I could top that performance.” Yuuri felt his face redden a bit, both at the proximity and Viktor’s _damn accent._

He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the closeness of _Viktor Nikiforov_ that hindered his usual sensibility, but he smiled a bit and retorted, “I think a dying whale could top that performance.”

Viktor’s smirked widened and leaned back to his side of the table, “You’ve got a mouth on you, Katsuki Yuuri. I never took you for the cheeky type.”

Yuuri’s blush deepened, but he was determined to keep it up— he was talking to a a cute Russian boy, and said cute Russian boy seemed to be enjoying the conversation— “It must be the company.” At this, the musically impaired Gaga fanatic stepped down from the stage and Viktor shot Yuuri a mischievous glance as he hopped off his stool and strode across the floor, head high and shoulders at ease. Yuuri would swear that boy didn’t have a nervous bone in his body.

Viktor leaned over to the DJ and told him something before taking the stage.

“Tonight I will singing Bad Romance by an artist with whom I am sure you are all intimately familiar by now. I’d like to dedicate this one to the gentleman in the corner, Katsuki Yuuri.”  
Yuuri’s eyes went wide for a moment, and he turned on his stool to get a better view of Viktor. The man on stage turned away from the rest of the rest of the bar as he sang the opening notes of the song, and _fuck._ Despite his tipsy state, Viktor was on pitch and clearly knew something about singing. By the time he hit the chorus, he was using his falsetto and it was flawless. And, _shit,_ he was singing right at Yuuri. Viktor would be getting those five bucks.

Finishing the song, Viktor hopped off stage as the other patrons of the bar applauded him and he swaggered back to Yuuri, a smug smile pulled across his features. When he reached their table on the far side of the floor, Viktor leaned next to Yuuri, breath hot on his ear, “Where are my five dollars, Katsuki?”

After that, the two boys lost track of time. The rest of the night at the bar was a blur of songs and drinks and lingering gazes and whispered words. At one point, Viktor had even forced Yuuri up on stage with him to sing nothing less than “Breaking Free” from High School Musical. Yuuri couldn’t help but give into that childish smile and mischievous glint that lit up Viktor’s eyes when he wanted something he knew he would get.

As they stumbled down the pavement on the short walk from the bar back to campus, Yuuri somehow found his hand held in Viktor’s, their steps becoming one as their warm breath painted clouds in the biting air. By the time they got back to the dorms, their cheeks were flushed and their feet more than a little bit sore.

As they staggered into the lobby, laugher still on their tongues, Viktor turned to Yuuri, suddenly serious. He grasped the shoulders of the other boy, “Come back to my dorm?”

A nervous smile spread across Yuuri’s face, “Yeah— yeah. Of course.” A grin spread across Viktor’s features to match Yuuri’s, and the Russian all but dragged his companion towards the elevators.

The ride up to Viktor’s dorm on the fifth floor seemed eternal. Their mingled breath filled the air in the cramped space and Viktor felt at once entirely too close and vastly distant. As the elevator doors opened and the bell sounded, Viktor grasped Yuuri’s hand and led him down the hall until they finally reached a door numbered 515. Viktor pulled a key from the inside pocket of his khaki trench coat and pushed the door open. As he and Yuuri stumbled inside, Viktor’s hand found the light switch and flicked it on. Yuuri tried to take in his surroundings— Viktor’s dorm was a single with the regular school issued furniture and plenty of plum accents adorning the space, added by Viktor, no doubt. The flamboyant fuck. Before he could see much though, Viktor pinned him against the door, forearms resting on either side of Yuuri’s head. Yuuri could still smell the liquor that tinged his breath. Viktors voice was filled with something entirely new when he spoke, something much more raw than before. “Tell me if you want me to stop."

Yuuri had a feeling he would be telling Viktor no such thing.

Viktor tilted his head observantly. Yuuri supposed he liked what he saw, because the Russian man proceeded to finally, _finally,_ close the gap between himself and the boy he had pinned against his door. When Viktor’s lips met his, the world could have toppled down around them, and neither boy would notice. The first kiss was soft, gentle. Testing the waters. When the waters pushed back, Viktor placed a hand in Yuuri’s dark hair. In turn, Yuuri rested a hand on Viktor’s chest. The kiss deepened, becoming more hurried, more frantic. Yuuri wasn’t sure what they were rushing towards, but whatever it was, he knew that he liked it. Yuuri pressed gently against Viktor’s chest, and the silver haired boy seemed to understand. He broke the kiss for a moment, guiding Yuuri to his bed.

As Viktor pushed him onto the mattress, Yuuri practically pulled Viktor down on top of him by the lapels of his coat and worked Viktor’s arms out of the heavy fabric. Viktor tossed his coat aside and splayed his palms out on either side of Yuuri’s head. “Cheeky,” he teased.

“Must be the company,” Yuuri reminded. Viktor smiled and met the other’s lips once again. His hand found the hem of Yuuri’s shirt and traced patterns atop the skin underneath. Wherever Viktor touched him, Yuuri felt his skin catch fire.

“Is this okay?” Viktor pulled away, whispering hesitantly.

“Viktor, God, _yes,”_ Yuuri answered, curling his fingers in Viktor’s silver hair. He looked up into those soft blue eyes, _“Yes.”_ Viktor’s lips met his once more, and they somehow felt like home.

Viktor kissed like it was a performance. Yuuri kissed like he had to win.

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, legs intertwined, two mouths becoming one. When he glanced at the clock on Viktor’s bedside table, he saw that it was nearly two in the morning. He pushed against Viktor’s chest above him, “Viktor, it’s late.”

Viktor’s gaze wandered over to his clock and his eyes widened a bit. Then he chuckled, “Right you are.” Viktor slid from above Yuuri to beside him with a sigh. Just as Yuuri was a about to get up and head to the door, Viktor interrupted his thoughts— “Stay with me?”

Yuuri felt his heart jump into his throat. Silence hung in the air for a moment. Then for several moments.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri waited a few more seconds before giving his answer. He knew it was a bad idea. He had barely even spoken to Viktor before tonight. But still, in the span of a few hours they had shared hushed words and mingled breath and Yuuri felt so _right_ with Viktor lying beside him. He turned on the bed to face Viktor, their noses nearly touching.

“Of course.”

Yuuri knew that Phichit wasn’t going to shut up about this for months. That was a price he was willing to pay.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on [tumblr](http://mivyard.tumblr.com) to keep up with me between posts on here.
> 
> i have this marked as completed but... maybe keep an eye out for chapter two.
> 
> comments and kudos are always suuuper appreciated! xx.


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